Meet Me Here
This is a vision
of what I hope to be,
to find,
to create:
It was in the way
that you sat
that told me
you were
ready for conversation
communion
with me
your legs sat
split between
the edges of
the chair
your arms
lay down
hands with
fingers interlaced
your head bowed
slightly forward
your eyes at attention
studied in constant motion
with mine
you were here
all of you
ready to speak and to listen
ready to go deep
armed with laughter
with empathetic tears
with ears that were
connected to your heart
you spoke carefully
yet freely
you asked questions
voracious to know others
thirsty to understand how it
all works
happy to lend your tales to
this grand experiment
called life
open with your shame as with your joy
with your successes as with your failure
with your hopes as with your fears
you proved both validating mirror
and challenging, aspirational professor
friend, shoulder, lover
growing both
younger and younger while
older and older
we loved
deeply
laughed like no other
our communions
took the pulse of the day
and quickened or slowed it
in a grand dance that grew our
mutual understanding of how to
be human with other humans
we were present
most of all, above all else
we sat present
with each other
devices off
swaying, distracting thoughts
corralled
we met eye to eye
heart to heart
cherished the chance to
hear, to hold, to heal
This has been a vision
of what I hope to be,
to find,
to create,
to be present for.
Will you meet me in this place?
*********************************************
estranged, so strange: a father, now a stranger, named
you
don't get to
say my name
as if
you know me
you never
had the pleasure
you knew me
as I started
but not who
I became
you quit
far before
then
and I
don't know you
either
I met you
in the middle
of who you'd be
but I cannot
say your name
nor the name we
call those whose genetics
bind us
by Dad
or
by Daughter
we both stopped counting days
between when we stopped calling
stopped saying
those words
and in the absense
of those words uttered
in the silence and
empty space of a relationship
shattered
two people exist
as close as can be
yet never farther apart
Father: his coordinates, unknown
His DNA, embedded in my
heart
This is a vision
of what I hope to be,
to find,
to create:
It was in the way
that you sat
that told me
you were
ready for conversation
communion
with me
your legs sat
split between
the edges of
the chair
your arms
lay down
hands with
fingers interlaced
your head bowed
slightly forward
your eyes at attention
studied in constant motion
with mine
you were here
all of you
ready to speak and to listen
ready to go deep
armed with laughter
with empathetic tears
with ears that were
connected to your heart
you spoke carefully
yet freely
you asked questions
voracious to know others
thirsty to understand how it
all works
happy to lend your tales to
this grand experiment
called life
open with your shame as with your joy
with your successes as with your failure
with your hopes as with your fears
you proved both validating mirror
and challenging, aspirational professor
friend, shoulder, lover
growing both
younger and younger while
older and older
we loved
deeply
laughed like no other
our communions
took the pulse of the day
and quickened or slowed it
in a grand dance that grew our
mutual understanding of how to
be human with other humans
we were present
most of all, above all else
we sat present
with each other
devices off
swaying, distracting thoughts
corralled
we met eye to eye
heart to heart
cherished the chance to
hear, to hold, to heal
This has been a vision
of what I hope to be,
to find,
to create,
to be present for.
Will you meet me in this place?
*********************************************
estranged, so strange: a father, now a stranger, named
you
don't get to
say my name
as if
you know me
you never
had the pleasure
you knew me
as I started
but not who
I became
you quit
far before
then
and I
don't know you
either
I met you
in the middle
of who you'd be
but I cannot
say your name
nor the name we
call those whose genetics
bind us
by Dad
or
by Daughter
we both stopped counting days
between when we stopped calling
stopped saying
those words
and in the absense
of those words uttered
in the silence and
empty space of a relationship
shattered
two people exist
as close as can be
yet never farther apart
Father: his coordinates, unknown
His DNA, embedded in my
heart
RSS Feed
